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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429500">Something Can Stop Della Duck!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentz123/pseuds/agentz123'>agentz123</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Who is Donald Duck? [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Badass Della Duck, Covert Discrimination, Della-centric, Friendship, Gen, Gender Inequality, Gender Roles, I'm Leaving it Marked as Gen, Identity, Insecurities, Overt Discrimination, Pre-Canon, Questioning Della Duck, Sexism, Slight Three Cabs AU, Slow To Update, Take it How You Please Wink Wink, The “OC” is a Plot Device, Three Gay Caballeros?, Twin Bond, Underage Drinking, Will Be Developed Later in the Series, Yay for Using Flashbacks as Plot Devices!, aged-down characters, canon-divergent, legacy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:40:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentz123/pseuds/agentz123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Della earns her pilot's license and sets out on her first major flight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Della Duck &amp; Don Karnage, Della Duck &amp; Donald Duck, Della Duck &amp; Duckworth (Disney), Della Duck &amp; Jose Carioca &amp; Panchito Pistoles, Della Duck &amp; Scrooge McDuck, Donald Duck &amp; Scrooge McDuck, José Carioca &amp; Donald Duck &amp; Panchito Pistoles, Scrooge McDuck &amp; Jose Carioca &amp; Panchito Pistoles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Who is Donald Duck? [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Challenge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, a bit of background for my LOTTC AU: Donald attends college at New Quackmore Institute while Della goes to Cape Suzette and learns how to fly from the best (wink, wink). During winter break, Donald comes home and Della is able to show off her new license. But trouble awaits...</p><p>Burt Rutan's Scaled Composites Model 311 Virgin Atlantic GlobalFlyer was designed in order for a single pilot to make an uninterrupted, non-fueled circumnavigation of the globe. Pilot Steve Fossett holds the record for making the journey in 2.79 days (67 hours), completing it on February 28, 2005.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before Donald had a chance to properly thank the cabbie, a cloud of smog sputtered from the tailpipe as the taxi coughed away. He picked up his briefcase and turned to face the summit. If he squinted, he could see his uncle’s trademarked top hat rising above a large business of ferrets and weasels. He wasn’t surprised that Scrooge would try to squeeze in a conference before he and Della had come home for the holidays. Shaking his head good-heartedly, he closed his eyes and tried to picture the look on his sister’s face when --</p>
<p>A warm mass of feathers slammed into him. “Donald! You’re home!”</p>
<p>“Della,” he chuckled. “How’d you manage to get here before me?” She pulled away, her eyes twinkling. She reached into her aviator’s jacket and brought out a small card. “<em>Your pilot’s license!</em> You finally got it!”</p>
<p>“Yep! First in my class to do so. I wanted to keep it a surprise, which is why I stopped writing. Sorry about that. Wanna come see the plane?”</p>
<p>They ran the rest of the way up, nearly ramming into the enormous seaplane that sat in the driveway. The sun’s rays and the new polish made it seem like it was on fire. Della led Donald inside, where he admired the gaping rear cargo compartment. He sat down in the copilot’s chair in astonishment.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Wow.”</em>
</p>
<p>“I know, right?” She buckled herself in. “I call her the <em>Cloudslayer.</em> Ready?”</p>
<p>Donald was never one for flying. He was much more of a sea duck. He didn’t like how the air was silent, but made your ears pop anyway. In the water, the waves are always there, lapping and reminding you that you are there, that you are still going. That your lungs are pumping and that your blood is flowing. He didn’t like how the air was too compresible, too stiff, how it bends too easily to <em>anyone’s</em> will. Water isn’t like that. It chooses its own destiny, and churns something up inside that makes you feel like <em>you</em> could, too.</p>
<p>He stopped fiddling with the zipper on his coat when he saw his twin’s outstretched hand.</p>
<p>He was much more of a sea duck, but he trusted his sister.</p>
<p>He gave her hand a squeeze. She nodded and started tugging on levers and dials, but was interrupted by a pesky snort. Donald noticed how his sister steamed, and he followed her gaze out the window. “Who’s the palooka?”</p>
<p>“Steve Ferret,” Della growled, powering down the engine and stepping off the craft. “He’s been shoving his new line of planes down our throats for the past week.”</p>
<p>Scrooge McDuck reached into his coat and pulled out a handkerchief and began cleaning his spectacles. “It’s funny how you brag about being the greatest adventurer of all time, McDuck,” the weasel sneered. “But you can’t even pilot your own airplane!”</p>
<p>Scrooge stuck his beak up high in pride. “Dinnae need to. I’ve got the best pilot right here.” He reached over and pulled Della close. A burst of laughter ensued.</p>
<p>“HAH! A girl? With a pilot’s license? HAH!” Donald and Della’s blood boiled. They both opened their beaks to bark out a retort, but their uncle calmly stepped in between them and the ferret.</p>
<p>“This girl could fly circles around you, Ferret. Loop de loops and all.”</p>
<p>“Then you wouldn’t mind making a little wager, would ya, McDuck?”</p>
<p>Scrooge leaned forward on his cane, hard. “Bring it,” he growled.</p>
<p>“I bet,” he started, shoving his snout so close, the miser’s glasses began to fog up again. The duck stood unfazed. “I bet  she couldn’t match my circumnavigation record.”</p>
<p>“She can do that, and more.” A mischievous glint sparkled in Scrooge’s eye. “She’ll do it in the Sunchaser.” Yes, the <em>Sunchaser,</em> not whatever dimwitted denomination Della had given the craft. And unlike Steve Ferret, he was <em>not</em> about to pay some measly mechanic to build an entire line of planes just for one little go-around of the earth.</p>
<p>Ferret’s aviators spat. Donald quacked a furious “yeah!,” not really understanding the implications. Della growled a furious “yeah!,” not really acknowledging the implications.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” he mocked. “I bet my entire line of air carriers, and my pilots.” He ignored the worried grunts rising from his employees (Scrooge McDuck paid <em>peanuts.</em>) “And in exchange, I want the fifteenth floor of the Money Bin.”</p>
<p><em>Not the fifteenth floor!</em> Anxiously, Scrooge looked over at his niece. She was radiating hot anger and passion, and his faith in her was restored. He held out his wing.</p>
<p>“Then it’s settled. <em>Miss</em> Della’s circumnavigation is set for, let’s say, a week from now? So you all have enough time to back out. Or, in the case of you chickens, I should say <em>duck</em> out. Let’s go, team.”</p>
<p>The rats disappeared in a cloud of laughter. Donald burned. “I hate that guy. How’d I like to install <em>him</em> a new throttle…but no. I’m going to let your flying do all of the work.” He and Scrooge clapped her on the back and started back to the mansion. They paused when they realized Della wasn’t following them. Instead she stood there, glued to the spot in a puddle of realization, sweat turning to ice as it slid down her spine.</p>
<p>“Something the matter, lassie?”</p>
<p>“<em>Are you kidding?</em> I can’t do all of that in the Cloudslayer!”</p>
<p>“What, is it too small?”<br/>
</p>
<p>“No! The aircraft Ferret used was built <em>solely</em> for a quick flight around the world!” She started listing off a bunch of airplane jargon neither of them understood. “The installation of a single jet turbofan engine, a pressurized cockpit, the carbon fiber reinforced epoxy! And don’t even get me started on the aramid honeycomb…”</p>
<p>“Soooo?” Scrooge asked expectantly. “I dinnae see the problem.”</p>
<p><em>Sheesh.</em> This must be how Don feels! “The Cloudslayer doesn’t have <em>any</em> of that stuff, Uncle Scrooge! Weren’t you listening!” She started hyperventilating.</p>
<p>The old duck softened. “Hey, there, lass. It’s alright. We —” He felt his throat closing in shameful pride. “We can call off the bet.”</p>
<p>Della blubbered harder. “<em>Now, now, I didn’t say all of that!</em> I can still compete! It’s just that...what if we lose? What if <em>I</em> lose?”</p>
<p>Before Scrooge could mention that he <em>did</em> actually gamble a large part of his company on this, Donald grabbed his sister and hugged her close. “Well, we’ll love you anyway. And I’d still think you’re the best pilot in the entire universe. So why don’t we go put in a bit of practice right now?”</p>
<p>He meant what he said, even though he was much more of a sea duck.</p>
<p>And Della knew it.</p>
<p>With renewed determination, she led her brother to the cockpit of the Cloudslayer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Aerophone Inadequacy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Donald laid on his bed, his flippers swinging through the air and his fingers looping around the telephone cord. “No, you hang up first,” he giggled. “No, you!”</p><p>Scrooge sighed tiredly. This kissy-face act has been going on for the past five minutes. He stood from his desk and made his way out of his study and to his nephew’s bedroom. He pushed on the cracked door. “Who are you talking to, lad?”</p><p>Before Donald could hide the red flashing in his feathers, there was a knock at the front door. He immediately excused himself to answer it, quickly remembering to snatch the phone and bring it with him to hide his uncle’s wandering eyes. Intent on getting an answer, Scrooge stomped down the stairs after the avoidant adolescent. </p><p>On the porch stood a rowdy rooster and a smug parrot, both grinning into the receiver of a small cellphone. “Donal’! Hang up the phone and come give us a hug!”</p><p>Donald choked. “Panchito? José? What -- how -- why--!” </p><p>"What? We are here, on Killmotor Hill. How? Plane. Zé is surprisingly influential in the air. Why? We missed you, <em>¡no digas!</em>”</p><p>Donald flushed instantaneously. “T-this is my uncle, Scrooge McDuck.” </p><p>Scrooge reached up to tip his hat, but the rooster yanked his hand and started shaking it furiously, nearly causing his glasses to go flying off. The parrot leaned curiously on his umbrella, removing his own cap and nodding at the miser. </p><p>“Ah, is this the <em>viejo?</em> How are you? And your <em>gemela?</em>” Panchito winked, an inside joke that the three of them had. </p><p>“Right!” He grabbed the other birds’ wings and started to pull them along excitedly. “She’s right --“</p><p>There was an ear piercing scream from upstairs. </p><p>“Upstairs. Um, I’m going to go check on her. Why don’t you two and Uncle Scrooge become acquainted?” </p><p>Before anyone could respond, he dashed off.</p><p>Scrooge shuffled his feet awkwardly. “So, I hear the three of ye are in a band, is that right?”</p><p>“Of course!” Almost comically, Panchito pulled a guitar from underneath his sombrero. He started strumming a few notes, but paused when Scrooge started shaking his head. </p><p>“No, no. Play something <em>hearty.</em> Pull out the bagpipes!”</p><p>The young birds looked at each other in confusion. “Um…”</p><p>***</p><p>Donald sat next to Della on her bed, swinging his feet and bumping his ankles up against the mattress. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Man,” she shook her head tiredly. “Uncle Scrooge and his massive motormouth.” </p><p>Donald offered a tiny smile. </p><p>“I mean, I have no doubt that I can fly around the world. But to beat a world record? On the first try? Oh, boy.” She started turning green and shut her eyes. When she came to again, she saw her brother’s wing being extended to her, and she didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was wearing that ferocious grin, the one he had whenever he laughed in the face of danger, because he knew Della would be there for him if anything came up. </p><p>And he was there for her. </p><p>She took his hand and he pulled her up. “I got your back,” they said at the same time. “And Ducks don’t back down.” </p><p>He let go in order to start brushing the dust off her jacket. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he fussed. </p><p>“You know you can’t, Fauntleroy,” she teased, hoping to soften the blow. “It’s a solo flight.”</p><p>“Exactly. Which is why I don’t see the problem with me going. Unless you’ve forgotten how to do math again, Dumbella.” </p><p>She shoved him, trying to distract him from seeing the blush rising to her cheeks that appeared when she realized what he was actually trying to say. She felt the same, but of course she would never actually tell him that. </p><p>His smile dropped slowly as his tone became more serious. “Good luck.” He quickly scanned their surroundings to make sure no one was looking, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her and pecked her on the cheek. He separated from her before she could respond, and made a big show of wiping his beak. </p><p>“You’re SO ANNOYING, Donald,” she screamed. “But thank you.”</p><p>“Did you get gas?”</p><p>“Eh, I’ll do it in the morning.” </p><p>“Della…” Donald chided. </p><p>“Donald…” she returned in the same tone. I’m <em>going</em> to wake up.”</p><p>He shook his head and sighed. “Come here. I want you to meet a few people.”</p><p>The twins headed downstairs and found their uncle squawking furiously in Gaelic. Donald immediately rushed in and placed distance between Scrooge and his friends. “Woah, Uncle Scrooge! What are you doing?”</p><p>He turned his rage towards his nephew. “You didn’t even TRY to teach them to play the bagpipes? What are ye, afraid of yer heritage? I go and spend all of that money on lessons and ye wouldnae even --“ His words had reduced to furious curses and he reached for his cane. Della and Donald shrunk back simultaneously. </p><p>“Aw, phooey,” they hissed, each taking a bird and shoving out of the front door. “Time to go.”</p><p>Donald noticed how Panchito and Della’s fingers were still interlocked. He quickly looked away, his chest burning, and suggested that they all go out to dinner. Della should have a big meal before her flight tomorrow. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Pirates and Petrol</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: slight inappropriate touching and groping</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She did not wake up. </p><p>At least without a hangover, anyway. They had stopped by one of José’s favorite pubs for some wings, and then Panchito and Donald started egging each other on about finessing the bartender, causing a drinking contest that she just HAD to join. </p><p><em>“I am not sure, Della,” the parrot took a long drag on his cigar, blowing rings of smoke into her brother’s neck before he snatched the thing and shoved it in his own bill. “Panchito here is a...heavy weight. I have reason to believe that his </em>mãe <em>fed him Corona instead of milk. And you are but a woman, yes?”</em></p><p>
  <em>Steam billowed out of her ears. “No! I mean, what’s that supposed to mean, you big palooka?”</em>
</p><p><em>Panchito crowed good-heartedly. “We mean no offense,</em> gemela! <em>It is just good science. Women succumb faster than men.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Donald attempted to create rings too, but only successfully choked on the remaining ashes. “Have just ONE to ease your nerves,” he coughed weakly. “But don’t be stupid.”</em>
</p><p>Oh, she was stupid, alright. She made sure to have at least double of what Don had, just for that <em>“gemela”</em> comment. But she was completely justified in her actions! They are two different people! She was not Donald Duck’s shadow! SHE was Della Duck, world-renowned adventurer, soon to be world-renowned pilot—!</p><p>“THE CONTEST!” she blurted, nearly succumbing to her nausea. She scrambled out of bed, cursing with every movement she made, before rushing downstairs to ask Duckworth to drop her off at the downtown hangar. It was so dumb, the way they wouldn’t let her just start at Killmotor Hill, but Ferret <em>insisted</em> that she start at the same mark as he did (not further back as to not bruise his ego when she kicked his ass), that being a woman was <em>enough</em> of a disadvantage, that—</p><p>“Miss Della, you’re clawing through the seats again. I doubt your uncle would be too pleased.” Duckworth pulled over to the side of the entrance, where a small crowd had gathered. Before getting out to open the door for his ward, he reached into his coat and offered her a handkerchief. “With all due respect, I suggest you compose yourself before stepping out.”</p><p>Della gave a nod of thanks as she accepted the soft cloth. “I need you to be completely honest with me, Duckworth. Do you...do I get special treatment because I’m a woman?”</p><p>“Of course not. I have treated you and your brother all the same. Everyone does need help every once in a while. Even Mister McDuck, despite all of his claims stating otherwise.”</p><p>“But why does it seem like only you GUYS are helping me? All of the time?”</p><p>The butler gave a small chuckle. “I suppose that is the luck of the draw, Miss Della. You’re surrounded by males. Your father was not so lucky,” he winked. Something warm sprouted in her chest. </p><p>“How do you mean?”</p><p>“There were a lot of headstrong women he had to gratify before joining clan McDuck. But once he proved to be worthy for your mother, they never left his side. I have reason to believe they had a great influence on your father’s own success as a pilot.” Duckworth slid out of the limo to let her out, and fuzzy memories of him opening the door first for her or her brother arose equally. He lowered his voice. “Although it is important to be confident in your gender identity, it is equally important to realize that it is not the only thing that constitutes you as a whole.”</p><p>Della knew that, but did Steve Ferret? Did everyone else, for that matter? </p><p>“Now, I shall see you in less than 67 hours. Have a safe flight.”</p><p>With renewed strength, Della swam through the crowd until she reached the entrance of the hangar. The front door slammed with an echoing boom, and Ferret’s hand claps seemed tinny against the rounded metal walls. “Look who finally decided to join us!”</p><p>She approached the three of them, noting how the Cloudslayer bathed them in a warm red glow. She frowned at the sight of her brother, who was holding a bag of frozen peas against his face. “Why do you have a black eye,” she muttered. </p><p>“I tried waking you up on time!”</p><p>“Ah, yes. It did take you a while. Making sure your makeup was done?” Ferret sneered. Della resisted slugging him in the arm. She didn’t want to appear emotional and prove him right. Besides, she might get in trouble with her uncle for beating up one of his business partners again. </p><p>Steve continued. “Probably sprucing up in preparation of meeting a male on your trip.”</p><p>His words slashed deeper and deeper into her skin. She understood what Duckworth was talking about earlier, but all of his words had lost meaning in a matter of seconds. Della was a woman, through and through. And women were supposed to like men. But she wasn’t quite sure she did, no matter how hard she tried. Did that make her any less of a woman? Did that mean she was weaker than the average lady? </p><p>Her heart pounded so hard in her ears she could barely make out Uncle Scrooge’s words. “Lass! Ye have got tae get started! This slimeball of an associate has already started yer time! Ye lost aboot 30 minutes. Now, we’ll see you back here soon.” </p><p>Donald was barely able to shout a “Good luck, sis!” before Scrooge shoved her into the plane. </p><p>
  <em>66 hours and 29 minutes remaining.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Della finished the final touches on her charted map and slapped the instructions on the dashboard. Everything was going well so far, she was loose, her seat was adjusted just right, mirrors were free of reflective dirty spots...it’s just that her head was throbbing. </p><p>She leaned over to reach into one of the compartments to access the first aid kit for some mild painkillers, but paused to reconsider. “Nah. That weirdo might want to test my pee after I beat the whiskers off of him, and I’m not giving him the satisfaction! Take that, Steve Ferret!”</p><p>No response. </p><p>“Hm. Well, I guess I’ll just turn on some music, then. That might distract me…”</p><p>The aviator slapped on the radio after inserting a tape full of Powerline’s greatest hits. </p><p>“Welp, that was a good…” she stared at her watch. “...seven minutes. I know! Cloud gazing! Like Gyro always says, it’s nice to keep an open mind when doing a closed-circuit task! Let’s see…seems like we have a bird. Muted swan, probably.” Della squinted harder into the sunlight at a small group of greyer lumps of fluff. “Hm. That one looks a lot like a plane.” She chuckled, thinking she was going to see Superman next, but instead the clouds released a horde of wires, hooks grappling through the sides of the Cloudslayer. </p><p>“It is I, the fabled and famed Don Karnage!”</p><p>Aw, phooey.</p>
<hr/><p>Della Duck slowly opened her eyes, feeling more disoriented than that one time when a king python nearly squeezed the life out of her. In fact, she did feel a crushing sensation now, but it felt more uncomfortable, more...invasive. </p><p>She blinked rapidly in order to clear her vision and found an albino seal pressed against her, digging aggressively at her hips. She went to slap him across the cheek a few times, but realized she was knotted to some pole. She wrestled against her bonds, kicking and spitting. “What are you doing? Let me go!”</p><p>“Boss! Our honey’s awake!” a distant voice called. The seal merely chuckled. </p><p>“No can do, sweetheart.” A blood orange parrot fluttered into Della’s vision and reached out to smooth a few strands of hair behind her ear, nearly losing a finger in the process. “We’re robbing you.”</p><p>“NO, WE ARE NOT.” All of the crew stood at fearful attention as a chestnut wolf jumped on board, disturbing a few purloined trinkets from previous conquests. “That lousy excuse for a plane had nothing but toilet paper and water on it!”</p><p>“‘Lousy excuse for a plane’? I’ll show you lousy — I’ll have you know that I’m the primary pilot for THE Scrooge McDuck!”</p><p>The wolf paused his frustrated pacing, a grinch-like smile crawling onto his cheeks. “Well. It is a brow opener.”</p><p>Oops. </p><p>Don Karnage bared his teeth at a couple of crew members. “She is beating around the tree. Go and give a more thorough search. Tear the plane into pieces by pieces if you must.” </p><p>“Erm...wait! Come ON. You all know how stingy Uncle Scrooge is! He insists on washing this thing with spit! You really think he gave me something worth more than a cent to keep on board?”</p><p>“<em>Uncle</em> Scrooge? As in Scrooge McDuck? Think we should take the pretty lady for ransom, boss? It’s kinda what she gets, traveling all by herself and all.” </p><p>She saw red through the swarm of dirty pirates, all licking their lips and rubbing their paws and wings and talons together hungrily. “That’s enough! It’s DELLA. DELLA DUCK. <b>My name is Della Duck!</b>”</p><p>“SILENCE. I must wonder!” In anger the captain threw down his sword. The blade managed to shave through the cloth of Della’s cargo pants, taking a few tail feathers down with it. She quickly moved her bonded hands to her rear, trying to disguise her fear and embarrassment with anger. </p><p>“Woah, careful there, buddy,” she growled. </p><p>“Cap’n! Radar’s picked up a seaplane! A yellow one!”</p><p>Don Karnage growled indecisively. This could be an opportunity to get even with his mortal enemy... “Just —“ He rubbed his temples before slashing a toe, which opened the Iron Vulture’s hatch. “Get out. What a curse in disguise. You’re lucky we didn’t kill you.” He nodded for the seal and parrot to let her go, both of whom trying to sneak a peck before getting a knee to the abdomen. Della was then thrown abruptly towards her plane, and only had a matter of seconds before it went tumbling out of Karnage’s ship. </p><p>“Set the course for the seaplane!” He lowered his voice and watched the Cloudslayer roll away. “Curse you, Della Duck. You will purchase this, lady. Someday, somehow…even if I have to wreck havoc on your descendants.”</p><p>Della slipped out of the granny’s knot easily and was able to quickly return to the controls, wishing the plane had a shower where she could wash off all of the pirates’ grime. “At least I was still in motion…” She fumbled the wheel, noticing how her map had drifted to the floor in all of the commotion. At this rate, she should’ve been over Mali by now, but—</p><p>“...in the wrong direction!”</p><p>A small dinging sounded from the dashboard, and Della realized that she had about twenty miles left before she was completely out of gas.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Still waiting on Disney to release more Powerline :/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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